tilly

Lord Mayor Sorrel Tulple Auclair would not forget the time the Aaunites declared him guilty of a crime he’d never committed. “Aggressors, one and all. May this conflict of their own concoction teach them what consequences actions do have,” the man said, prior to signing the document at the 1989 gathering of the Garmont Assembly.

Renilde was not surprised, yet very pleased by such an informative flier. “It appears we are more alike than one might think, sinners, kinslayers and all, Mister and Missus Aaun!”

“It’s about time these imbecile Aaunic schemers, who aren’t even good at it, are brought some sort of consequence.” Renilde called upon her blacksmith, Briga Irongut, to have a companion to her trusty sword, The Ivory Empress, forged in the flames of Hohkmat’s smithy. @Beholder

“At least no one wanted to fight me. They just said some really mean things.” Renilde gig’d.

Renilde files her nails in the comfort of her restored home, sitting across from her grandsons Adrian and Aurelius over tea. “Surprise, surprise.” @Nectorist @Kaii

“Thieves,” said Renilde ‘the Lightbringer’ of the Petra, an old friend of Hohkmat and hater of injustice. @ToodIes@Beholder

Renilde tore off her wig and rags as they returned to the cleanliness and safety of Vallagne, where she faced her defense team with the ferocity of the Lioness that she was known for. It was said the elder was up the entire night with her two grandchildren and lawyer, deep in their cups as they planned what to do next.

Ser Ailred, See you soon then :) -renny

"All the people who contributed to the fall of the Heartlands, all are within the council of Aaun. How lovely!" Sorrel pointed to the familiar names who'd contributed to the rebellious acts, and scoffed, throwing the pamphlet down. "Even the treasonous Brigade of Marna serves as their military now? Someone ought to tell the Pontiff..." He nudged his wife, the Lady Chancellor of the Commonwealth, to pen such a letter. @Apricette

Your Eminence, The debacle that has taken place amid the Heartlander Strife, one which began with the burning of my home Courteis Hale by Aaunic citizens for fabricated reasons, is not something that I can ignore any longer. This has been affront to my safety, in which no one in Aaun has been held accountable for; my granddaughter, and several students and faculty were killed in the fire, yet there has been no comment from Aaunic leadership or offer for restitution to restore my home, or an apology for the losses that occurred. These people wish to see me dead, and while I am old, I still have a many good years left in me. It is for these reasons that I wish to bring a retinue of my own guards, to see me from point A to point B, and to protect throughout, so as to not be bothered on the roads or during the time of the trial. Given the actions displayed by Aaun's highest leadership and those meant to govern with equality and justice at their forefront, I hope that you may grant me this, to ease my mind during the travel and the time of the trial, for I wish nothing more than to appear before you on that day, safe and sound. Simply the best, Her Majesty, Renilde of the Petra

IGN: tillydactyl Discord: tillydactyl Full Name: Sorrel Tulpe Auclair Age: 37 Address: Auclair House idk with Amélie Position Running For: Lord Mayor!

“All is right,” croaked the Queen-Emeritus upon the reinstatement of the River Council, and more importantly, the governance of Petra by Petrans.

“My girl,” Renilde smiled a wrinkled smile as her eyes scanned the address, never more proud to be a Petran citizen. - “My girl,” Sorrel smiled the Sun’s Smile upon hearing the news that his wife would take up the mantle of Lady Chancellor of the Commonwealth, having never been more proud to be a Petran citizen, and more importantly, an Auclair. @Apricette

“And just like that, everything is swept under the rug, and no one is held accountable.” Renilde picked her teeth with the corner of the paper.

Queen-Emeritus Renilde I of the Petra snorts a line of white stuff, clenches her shaking hands into balled fists, and screams to the void, “FUC*ING GOT ‘IM!”

“Take it down, boys.” Renilde kicked the rubble that littered her property as she instructed the workers to deconstruct her home.

“It must have cost a fortune to import all of those rats from Whitespire and Enswerp…” A gilded-armor-wearing man of the Legion remarked, having just returned from a day of shooing the very wee beasts from the fields within the Mardonlands.

“What the heck haha…” Renilde covers one eye as she rereads the missive to make sure she wasn’t seeing double.

Sorrel looks at his clean hands, hands which had never exhumed a body from a grave in which he had no idea was located, nor was he given order to following his report from Ravenmire. He smirked, murmuring, “Nice try, pal. Stooping as low as to make things up now, like that dastardly Bel Aurum, are we? Just as fictional as your titles, and your position.” Sorrel then guffawed, realizing with a start, “It isn’t as if the charges hold any weight, once the disunion is finally done with! Hah! IDIOT!” - Renilde labored alongside the construction workers - albeit at a much slower rate - to restore her schoolhouse following its desecration by the Alstions’ hounds, the Brigade of Marna. Upon hearing of her charge by the faceless prince, she shrugged, and motioned to the charred state of Courteis Hale. “Should I be this Bel Aurum, it certainly is a shame they burned any sort of evidence they could have had, and killed any witnesses that might have testified.” Renilde continued the restoration of her home, the charge from a greedy nation that would not exist in the next decade the last thing on her mind. (( after some thought… this is starting to feel like some OOC targeting with getting two of my personas involved now for no reason, when I have gone out of my way not to get involved on Sorrel, my second persona, once this conflict properly broke out to respect the spirit of the rules. ))

“How could Renilde do this!” Whinged the elderly Queen-Emeritus, having only done one thing that truly needed to be done: put down the pretender king, which just so happened to be a son of her own issue. “How could the Brigade of Marna do everything else?” Renilde remembered being walked through her desecrated home by the kind members of the Legion, guiding her through the dangerous embers that were her flooring and walls - precious memories, lost forever. One thing she would never forget was the sight of the larder in her kitchen, the doors’ blocked by the tables where the students of the schoolhouse would once enjoy their meals. Within, the body of Lady Helene-Olympe was discovered, barely recognizable due to the burning, save for her unique prosthetic arms which gave away her identity within seconds. Intentional, it was, to block those doors. Intentional, it was, to trap that poor girl in that pantry while she faced her peril, alone. Slow, agonizing, choking, and burning. The Brigade of Marna murdered innocents, unhomed dozens, destroyed relics and heirlooms, and still call for more.

Renilde plants the seeds for her next plot, smirking in the direction of wherever the Varoches dwell.

Renilde sleeps soundly with her bokolo stuffie, dreaming of her younger years of ruling. She wakes to the silly missive, brought by a servant, and raises a brow. “Why don’t they do this somewhere west? Claim the land out there and start anew with their ideas that clearly never worked in the Petra. There is a reason they were done away with.”

“She delulu…” Renilde wiped her nose with the paper.

tillydactyl. Please god let me win